


A Clash Of Red & White

by stellaryoungs



Category: Produce 101 (TV), Wanna One (Band)
Genre: A ton of drama, Assassin's Creed AU, Forbidden Love, Kind of a slow burn, M/M, did I mention drama?, everything is explained in the prologue, more characters appear in the fic, pls give this a chance, some twists here and there, some violence oof, the whole story happened literally more than a hundred years ago uwu, this is NOT held in modern era, you don't need to know assassin's creed in order to understand
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-04 03:24:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17296829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellaryoungs/pseuds/stellaryoungs
Summary: Amidst the bloodshed of a dangerous war, they found themselves looking at each other with love-brimmed eyes as they stand on two opposing sides.





	1. prologue.

For years, decades, centuries and a millennia more to come, the Brotherhood of the Assassins and the Templar Order have been at war, both secret organizations at each other's throats over their goals.

What they wanted to achieve was similar. They both just desired to bring everyone world peace and work through unity.

It was just all a matter of how to do it.

 

Dating back a gazillion years ago, way before the humankind were the ancient humanoid creatures called the ISU. They were far more superior than humans; having a triple-helix DNA, six primary senses and an unbelievable IQ. They were wiped out and became extinct centuries later after a space catastrophe.

They created what we call the Pieces of Eden, or simply, ancient artifacts. However, they are far from simple, as each piece scattered throughout different parts of the globe contain a power too great for one to possess. The pieces, if used together, had the capability to control the world. And both the Assassins and the Templars knew that.

The Templars believed that they had to obtain the pieces in order to achieve world peace. If they were to have all the artifacts, they could easily rule over the world and force their idea of ‘peace’ onto the people. They'd brainwash them with no effort.

On the other hand, the Assassins opposed to their mindset and believed that if the artifacts were to be hidden from the people, then they'd be protected from its great power.

And so the war began. Templars and Assassins both went hunting for the pieces. With the Templars using them for their own benefit, and the Assassins desperately trying to keep and hide the artifacts for the sake of the world.

The war between the two sides reached until the farthest corners of the Earth, and almost all eras of human history was not complete without Templar-Assassin beef. From the Peloponnesian War in Greece, ancient Egypt, the first Crusade for Jerusalem, the Italian Renaissance, Versailles era in France, Victorian era in London, and continued forth until modern day era.

 

 

However, underneath all the warfare, lies a story that history has forgotten.

 

What if a Templar and an Assassin were to fall in love with each other?


	2. of first encounters & crimson-wreathed blades

_**PARK JIHOON.** _

 

It all began one whimsical night, when the city lights have blared into a facade of tranquility. Long gone was the hue-rich firmament that the dawn showcased with pride, easily forgotten behind the shadow of the moon. Upon the deep slumber of the unsuspecting citizens, Park Jihoon finds himself strolling down the dim-lit streets.

 

Gone was his usual intimidating attire consisting of a black-colored coat with some of its trims and sashes in crimson, a red mask, complete with various straps to hold his weapons; which truly highlighted his role of a Templar rogue. For tonight, however, Jihoon has decided that an unimportant occurrence such as his rare evening walks would compliment plain, casual robes adorned in ivory.

 

The chance of actually seeing any people was scarce; and if Jihoon were to spot an actual person, he was a hundred percent certain they were one of the city guards. Another reason why he had to wear such simple clothes.

 

As a potential candidate for future Templar grandmaster, albeit very young, Jihoon was fully aware of the fact that a few of the city guards have chosen to side with the Brotherhood of the Assassins. The greatest arch-nemesis of his own secret organization. Hell, if the Assassins actually educated their little recruits, they'd immediately notice Jihoon's Templar robes and would not hesitate to attack him on the spot, and he refuses to take such a risk.

 

Don't get him wrong; if anything, Jihoon absolutely loved getting his hands dirty (only if it's for the cause of the Templars) and he would not mind slashing the throats of his pathetic enemies.

 

Though there's just a big difference in between the battlefield of brutality and war and the serene silence of the night. When it came to the latter, Jihoon tends to forget the millennia-long war between their organizations. He was but a mere civilian hiding his capability in any form of defense. He doesn't need his rifles and blades when it came to his strolls.

 

As he was walking, he started to hear peculiar ruffling from the thick tree branches above him.

 

Was that an Assassin?

 

Jihoon remained collected despite knowing full and well that if it _is_ an Assassin, he'd be easily dead. If they were smart enough to time it, they could just drop from the tree branches and slice his throat. A shameful and quick way to go; and he didn't like the idea of that.

 

Continuing to walk briskly was no use, he soon learns.

 

Especially when a figure _indeed_ drops on him gracefully and swiftly, making him fall to the ground before harshly gripping his neck. The person's other hand locking his wrists from behind, therefore hindering him from inhaling any air and fighting back. With wavering pupils, Jihoon's eyes spot an elegant sharp, silver blade that's dangerously close to him.

 

“Oh, Jihoonie,” the soft yet cold voice coos. “Strolling in the dead of the night with Assassins skipping about in alleys and rooftops _and_ with no weapons to defend yourself with?”

 

Jihoon continued to stubbornly struggle under the grip, flinching when it only tightens.

 

“That's oddly very _stupid_ behavior for a Templar ‘grandmaster’.” they finish.

 

By this point, Jihoon gives up and just let's his left cheek meet the cold, rough ground. With a dark chuckle, he mutters. “Joohyun-noona, it's just you.”

 

“Yeah. You must be thankful.” The figure, now known as Joohyun, let go of him and stood up, dusting herself off. “Now, tell me what you would have done if I was an Assassin. Or a bounty-hunter set to kill you.”

 

“I admit it, okay? I likely would have tried to hit a few punches, but knowing the Assassins and their damned Hidden Blade, you'd find me rotting in here the next morning.”

 

“Precisely.” Joohyun says sternly. “You know exactly what would happen if you keep up this whole _airhead_ behavior, correct?”

 

Pursing his lips into a thin line, Jihoon answers with his head down. “I don't get to become the next Templar grandmaster of our branch and I'd get replaced.”

 

Joohyun began to look at her fingernails as if she could not give a single damn to whatever Jihoon had on his mind. “And you want that to happen?”

 

“Definitely not.” he answers immediately.

 

“Then prove it,” the woman challenges. “Right now.”

 

“R-Right now?”

 

“Yes.” Joohyun finishes with such a mischievous glint that it was almost scary. “You know the famous shrine in the middle of this city?”

 

Jihoon nods his head as a response, too intimidated by the burning stare of the older.

 

“We found a map the other day. Underneath the shrine is supposedly a vault.” Joohyun continues, “A vault protecting a piece of Eden. Check it out and bring the ancient artifact back to headquarters. If you fail? Don't even think about the consequences.”

 

“Does the vault even exist?”

 

“Quit it with the questions and take this codex. Seulgi already decoded it and you may use it to open the entrance.”

 

Too busy comprehending and mentally noting down everything that Joohyun said, Jihoon did not notice the woman give him back his Templar outfit and weapons.

 

“Did you-”

 

“Break into your house and steal your clothes? No.” Joohyun replies instantly, cutting him off. “But your Jaehwan-hyung gladly did it.”

 

The boy takes in a sharp inhale, his hold on his items getting firm as he thinks about the very high possibility of Jaehwan only agreeing to do the job because he could loot from Jihoon's possessions. “Tell him I said _thank you_.” he says through gritted teeth.

 

“Will do. Now go. If you're not back after dawn, we are going to have a serious talk whether you deserve my spot or not.”

 

“I won't disappoint you.” Jihoon grins, running off to a dark alley without even bidding goodbye.

 

Seeing the younger boy eagerly carry out his tasks, Joohyun smirked, feeling a swell of pride. As the _current_ grandmaster, watching your candidate improve and evolve was definitely something to brag about.

 

With one final glance at the alleyway, Joohyun puts her blood-red beaked hood over her head and returns to the shadows, on her way back to headquarters.

 

-

 

Jihoon stares intently at the dead end in front of him in the alley he ran off to. He has just finished strapping on his gear and fixing his coat, placing it on top of his plain clothing. He also made sure to put the papyrus containing the codex somewhere safe in his pockets. Determined to prove to their grandmaster Bae Joohyun that he is more than deserving to rule over the Templars after her reign, he started moving.

 

After running a hand through his black locks, he grabbed on a small crack on the wall in front of him, lifting himself up; at the same time, he was paying attention to where he was about to place his feet. The job wasn't so hard as the wall was pretty rough and had many spots for Jihoon to hold on.

 

He has reached the top of the tall tower structure soon enough and from the rooftop he was standing on, Jihoon's eyes scanned throughout the entire city. Almost in a flash his gaze locks into the huge, outstanding shrine tower some distance away. Wasting no time, Jihoon ran and did some tricky parkour (with almost slipping off and falling more than twice) over the buildings. He only had until dawn after all.

 

With sweat running down from his forehead, Jihoon crouches down to catch his breath, he finally reached the shrine. “Underneath the shrine, was it?” he murmurs under his breath.

 

Cautiously, Jihoon took a peek to see if he could handle the height of the roof he was standing on from the ground and just drop and land on his feet. Deeming the distance from down below as tame, he jumped off.

 

Landing effortlessly, though with a slight tinge of pain in his ankles following, Jihoon had finally reached the main entrance.

 

“Underneath it, underneath it…” he says to himself,  tapping his chin in frustration. “For all I know, the entrance could be from inside the tower or from the sewers.”

 

Eyes trailing to look at the sewers with utter disgust, Jihoon grips hard on his hair before taking a deep breath. “Sewers it is.”

 

One could blame him for making a dumb decision, but looking at it carefully, he couldn't even enter the shrine if he wanted to. There was no way he was gonna slay a couple of innocent shrine caretakers for a vault that he isn't even sure exists. To calm himself, Jihoon repeatedly thinks about how the Templars once found an artifact all the way from Italy through scavenging their way through the sewers of Florence many years ago.

 

Heck, even their secret Templar meeting place was also underground. No harm in trying.

 

Quickly unsealing and taking the lid off, Jihoon slowly went down, trying his best to tolerate the horrifyingly pungent odor. “May the Father of Understanding guide me.” he whimpers pathetically with a hand clamped to his nose.

 

Once fully inside, Jihoon grabbed a small torch sticking to the dirty sewer walls. His boots clinked and made splashes as he walked through the green waters. Jihoon almost lost it when he heard a small _squeak_ and felt a rat pass by him.

 

But exactly what kind of Templar grandmaster would lose his screws over a single rat?

 

With uneasy footsteps and a sturdy pride, Jihoon continued forward.

 

He was beginning to regret his decision to navigate this labyrinth-like _hell_ as each minute passes, starting to think that he'd just _rot_ down here alone and never return to see the light of day ever again.

 

That was until the structure of the sewers began to noticeably change. The space became much bigger too, and for whatever reason, the stone walls became smooth and flat. Jihoon even noticed vibrant golden-orange colors adorning the place. (Most notably, the terrible reek was gone.)

 

There was only one explanation to all of this. He knew this type of architecture and design like he knew the back of his hand.

 

Jihoon had found the exact vault that he was supposed to open. The ancient piece he was supposed to bring back to Joohyun was waiting for him right there.

 

Running towards the huge entrance with a silly smile on his face, Jihoon got out his sword and began to pick on the crack of the door.

 

“Damn it,” he cursed as it didn't budge one bit. Why was this ancient technology so complicated? It was ridiculous.

 

He scanned the area for any clues to open the vault door, and found a small forge. “What the hell is this supposed to be for?”

 

There were instructions written on the walls, but they were in a language Jihoon couldn't understand. The characters were too complex and he was certain that it was a dead language - probably something that wasn't even acknowledged by humankind in the first place.

 

Hands traced over the odd shape of the forge, and Jihoon quickly recognized it to be a weapon. The shape was of a spear.

 

“Who even uses spears these days?!” he hissed in vexation. “How do I find one in the middle of the sewer canals?”

 

As if having an intense staring contest with the spear-shaped forge, Jihoon came to a halt. “Hold on, that spear…”

 

“That spear is something you don't _and_ shouldn't have, Park Jihoon.”

 

At that moment, Jihoon's blood ran cold, his limbs shook and his pupils widened.

 

“Jihoon-ah, you're _over_.” the monotonous voice finishes. From behind him, Jihoon hears loudening footsteps running towards him, and the sound of a blade being brought out that he knows oh-so well.

 

With his sword, Jihoon easily spars the attack, causing whoever the hell this person is to stumble back, giving him an opening. “Not so fast, you little shit!” Jihoon growls, striking a blow on the hooded figure. It went to vain, however, as his own action was swiftly dodged.

 

The figure ran behind him, and before he even saw it coming, Jihoon was coughing over white smoke. That little dipshit just used a smoke bomb on him. “COWARD! Slice me to bits instead of running away, why don’t you?!”

 

Jihoon, irritated, slammed his sword to the ground and grabbed his sharp throw-knives from his bracers. “Where are you, bitch?!”

 

That's when a large, pale hand made its fast way to choke his neck.

 

“Right here, Jihoon-ah.”

 

His black fringe started to stick to his forehead due to sweat, and from his peripheral vision, he saw something from the gauntlets of the mysterious figure. On the silver metal was engraved a skull of an eagle; and how Jihoon absolutely _hated_ the sight of it. An eagle skull.

 

The logo of the Assassin brotherhood.

 

Snickering, he taunts. “So you're an Assassin, huh?”

 

“Indeed.”

 

“Whoever the hell you are,” he warns in a whisper, “Let go of me. _Now_.”

 

Jihoon wasn't in the least bit pleased with the way the white-hooded figure was behind him, breath fanning over his nape as the cloaked form's slender fingers harshly held his jaw; giving him the threat that the Assassin could tighten his grip at any given second and choke Jihoon to death. The Templar found himself biting his own lips in frustration as he felt both of his wrists being held behind his back.

 

“The name's Guanlin, mind you.”

 

‘ _Guanlin_ ’ found the sight of the shorter struggling under his grip rather amusing, and almost hilarious. “Maybe if you handed over the codex paper that Joohyun gave to you earlier, then _maybe_ I'd let you off the hook without having to imprisoning you back at our headquarters for answers. Please?”

 

So this Assassin had been on his tracks since hours ago?

 

“How charming of you to be polite,” Jihoon sneers, “There was an attempt. I applaud you for that.”

 

It could almost be considered as a mere joke, when Guanlin removed his fingers from the elder's neck. The Assassin's hand roamed around his chest in a teasing manner - and Jihoon loathed it. The shorter then had to choke back a gasp when he feels the other flex his forearm, revealing a sharp, rusty blade that came out from Guanlin’s bracer.

 

“Then I present to you attempt number two.” the other chuckles, as he points the blade dangerously close to Jihoon's throat. “Easy choice. Hand it over or bleed out.”

 

Rolling his eyes, Jihoon thought about how he was trapped under the tip of Joohyun's blade just a few hours ago. _What a pain._

 

“Hand _what_ over?” Jihoon questions innocently.

 

“I guess you chose to taint my hands with your blood, then.”

 

Before Guanlin mercilessly slash his blade across his throat, Jihoon kicked him in the shin from behind. Surprised at the sudden counter-attack, Guanlin's blade missed and only sloppily met Jihoon's right cheek. “Not so fast,” the shorter exclaims, before spatting out: _“Assassin.”_

 

In a hurry, he grabs his throw-knives from the floor and hurriedly launches two at Guanlin, the other completely missing due to his lack of focus and the last luckily stabbing the taller in the shoulder. He cackles sadistically when he saw the blood ooze out from the Assassin, causing Guanlin to fall to the floor and leading to Jihoon completely forgetting the stinging pain from his own cheek and the blood running down from it to his jaw and neck.

 

Jihoon's hands got a hold of his own sword again, the only thing running on his mind was to kill the other.

 

“Nice meeting you, Guanlin.” he giggles darkly, sword in midair.

 

“My pleasure.” was the other's simple, weak reply.

 

Before he could violently end Guanlin right then and there, the younger had forced himself to stand up and stab the Templar in the ribs using the blade hidden in his gauntlet.

 

“ _Shit!_ ” Jihoon cursed in a strained voice, dropping his weapon as he felt the thin, sharp metal slice through him, head dropping down low when he realizes that Guanlin was aiming for his heart.

 

The Assassin takes out his blade in an agonizingly slow manner, before pushing a now vulnerable, bleeding Jihoon to the ground. Flexing his forearm again, the blade retracts.

 

“I missed your heart so I wouldn't get to display it in the Assassin headquarters,” Guanlin starts, tone laced in disappointment. “But I did manage to grab the papyrus from you earlier.”

 

 _Damn it._ No wonder Jihoon had fingers roaming all over him earlier. Guanlin wasn't trying to pull some taunting trick on him; he was searching for the codex page.

 

“Maybe just simply handing it over was the superior choice, don't you think so, Jihoon-ah?”

 

He no longer had strength left in him, his vision going blurry and his head felt as it was being banged over and over to hard wood. The continuous loss of blood was already driving Jihoon to a state of utter pain and torment, and he could no longer retort to the sarcasm of the other.

 

And so Guanlin leaves him like that; lying down on the cold, hard floor, alone and helplessly bleeding to death in the dark.


	3. of tragedy and first missions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PART ONE OF LAI GUANLIN'S PAST.
> 
> WARNING: we don’t get panwink this chapter, sorry :((

**_LAI GUANLIN._ **

  


Guanlin loved libraries.

 

He has found heaven in them ever since he was a young gulliver. Be it the local kingdom reserve with old, tattered books the commoners go to downtown, or back at the castle’s royal kaleidoscope of pages of literature, with hard-bound book covers luxuriated in golden ascents. It didn't really matter to him. For in the end, a library is a library that he believes can hold so many treasures regardless of physical traits.

 

It was already two in the morning that day in Taiwan, the empire in all its glory, when the palace servants who were frequently checking on sixteen-year-old Guanlin could still hear the occasional click-clacking sound of his abacus inside the empty royal library. The boy had blank sheets of paper scattered all over a table, a candle for illumination, with his eyebrows creased together and his nose scrunching from time to time.

 

On his right hand was a quill, and in front of him was the abacus that was being entertained by his left. Dipping the feather on some ink, Guanlin began to write down the answers from his computations.

 

“If the kingdom merchants could be sent on a trip in order to do all the trade, and come back with just the right amount of wood, leather and iron…” he mutters to himself, slender fingers moving up and down from controlling the abacus beads. “That'd take about three weeks at minimum and only then will we get to have enough supply for the arsenals.”

 

Letting out a yawn, Guanlin stretched his arms and shook his hands due to them being numb after writing for so long. “Let's call it a day.”

 

“Guanlin? You're still cooped up in here?”

 

As he was neatly stacking the papers, he turned around to meet the owner of the feminine voice. “Shuhua-jiêjie.” Guanlin greets back, softly nodding his head in acknowledgement with a small smile.

 

“The Emperor wishes to see you.” says Shuhua, one of the maids working for the royal family. “I would have thought his assumptions of you still being awake were wrong, yet here you are.”

 

“Ah, yes, of course. It's been a hectic day. Could you do me a favor first, though?” With a sheepish grin, the younger asks, before handing over his notes and other equipment. “Please bring these to my room. No need to arrange them, placing them down on my study desk in the corner would be enough.”

 

“Will do.” the woman responds with a charming smile.

 

They bid each other a good night (or a good early morning) and a goodbye before Guanlin made his way to the throne room, fixing his white dress shirt and fluffing up his hair in an attempt to at least look decent enough and mask his drowsy, exhausted state.

 

Guanlin soon finds the sound of his own footsteps echoing throughout the empty palace corridors soothing and it calms him for some reason, frequently admiring the paintings adorning the walls no matter how many times he sees them every day for the past years he has lived here.

 

Too engrossed in appreciating the masterpieces hung on the castle walls, Guanlin almost missed the grand, golden double-door entrance of the throne room - which he found silly since it easily stuck out like a sore thumb. Although he couldn't stare at the other paintings extending down the hall for now, he still made effort in hiding his small, disappointed expression before knocking on the doorway.

His hands gently moved to grab the two, fancy door knobs that were designed to look like dragons, opening them just as carefully.

 

The throne room was much bigger than the usual already-large halls all around the castle, and from the door was a long, vermillion carpet that went on until the Emperor's feet. He was sitting on his resplendent throne, the gold designs rich in a variety of jewels and gems - head up high, keen eyes, almighty presence and robes that emit an aura only a true regal could. Guanlin had learned to control it over the years, but he could never ease it to himself to not be overwhelmed by the Emperor.

 

“Your Highness,” Guanlin spoke first, respectfully bowing under the old man's hard gaze. “Shuhua came with the message that you wanted to see me?”

 

“Yes, I did. Stand up, child.” the Emperor replied, ordering him. “Have you been doing your tasks?”

 

“I have, Sir.”

 

“Well, do put those aside first. For I have a new job for you, and it is far more important than the rest.”

 

With Guanlin treating the Emperor as if he was his own father, he nodded with no hesitation, causing a small, happy gleam make its way to the old man's eyes. “Perfect.”

 

“Sir, what will I have to do and when shall I start?”

 

For a moment, the Emperor's eyes reflected the face of melancholy, which surpassed however the keen, youthful stare Guanlin sported. “You shall begin as soon as possible. You wouldn’t mind going on a road trip, would you?”

 

“No, sir.”

 

“Alone, if you may.”

 

A small, disturbing feeling began to creep up in his thoughts, but Guanlin decided to pay it no mind. Sure, he has gone on long trips countless times that he could no longer count them with two hands, but never in his life as a palace advisor did he even dare to think of embarking alone. For some reason, he tends to get paranoid and feel defenseless without the other knights by his side (even though he trains with them occasionally—Emperor’s orders.)

 

His weaknesses are of minor concerns, though. This is royal orders he was dealing with, and Guanlin would never let his personal issues get in the way with his palace duties.

 

With a budding confidence, he nods his head in agreement. “I have no problem with that.”

 

The old man, for a few minutes, just put Guanlin under a tense gaze—not meant to pressure him, it was just how the Emperor naturally looked at everything. And yet, it felt as if the man was hiding something under that golden, royal headpiece.

 

“You are to leave before noon tomorrow and to come back within six days’ time if the trip has no setbacks. No need to bid me or any officials goodbye as this requires critical notice.” the Emperor declares, “Your task is to deliver these documents to an associate of mine in Kaohsiung. Your horse, along with a wagon of food and weaponry are to be drawn out as early as the other attendants could.”

 

Guanlin reached out forward to grab the pile of papers that seemed new from the ruler's hands. “Are there any more conditions, Your Highness?”

 

“Ah, yes.” he replies. “The moment you step foot in Kaohsiung, swear under the Royal Crown, _you won't be seen_.”

 

Skeptically, the young attendant just nods his head yet again. “I swear.”

 

“I put all my trust in you, Lai Guanlin.”

 

“A good choice, might I add, Sir. I give you my gratitude.”

 

-

 

The blinding rays of the sunshine shamelessly shone through the royal red gaps of Guanlin's bedroom curtains, and what seemed to be the awe-striking saturated hues of the post-sunrise to some forcefully lead him to open his eyes in annoyance. He knows full and well that he had no right to curse, especially since the crystal-clear memories of his ‘early morning’ (alternatively, dead in the night) computations and paper stacks still lingered on his mind.

 

It didn't take a genius to see that Guanlin woke up very late. Gone was the soothing amalgam of apricot and cerulean, and what met his blurry, languid vision was the sun up in all its glory in the welkin as if it was the only entity in the universe; and how Guanlin disliked it. Oversleeping was never his thing, and getting practically blinded first thing when he wakes up certainly isn't, either.

 

Being late is not his cup of tea as well, he realizes as flashbacks of the Emperor's orders rapidly rushed through his drowsy brain.

 

“Damn it!” He yells, hastily and clumsily getting up from the fine comforts of his bed to get ready. What will the Emperor think of him after this mishap? His reputation as the loyal, diligent attendant that he was known to be will immediately get overshadowed by his careless image, would it not?

 

It was not really the perfect time to contemplate about such concerns, but he can't help but feel anxious. His nerves kept on shaking even as he speedily make huge strides from the grand hall until he reached the castle gates.

 

Guanlin sees his beloved white horse carrying a royal wooden wagon filled with what he presumed was paraphernalia the Emperor and palace attendants provided for him beforehand — and quite an irritated figure standing next to it.

 

“You're late.” spats Song Yuqi, a member of the kingdom's Grand Council. “You think His Majesty would be delighted to hear of this?”

 

“I'm sure he'd understand the situation.” assures the younger, though it seems that he was trying to convince himself more than Yuqi.

 

It took a single glare and a raised eyebrow from the elder for Guanlin to gulp nervously and take a deep breath.

 

“Yuqi-jiêjie, don't tell!” Guanlin whines, “Last night was just so exhausting and I had to—”

 

She cuts him off with a sigh and a raised hand as a signal for him to quit blabbering. “I'll let it pass, though you really should consider giving your horse a bath.”

 

Scrunching his nose in a form of disbelief, Guanlin shakes his head. “She looks fine _and_ smells so, too, thank you very much.”

 

“Just go. And remember, if anything seems out of the blue, _never_ turn back. Keep your eyes forward.”  Choosing to ignore the younger’s stubborn statement, Yuqi says as-a-matter-of-factly. “You'd best be going, Guanlin. The Emperor is counting on you.”

 

“Yes, I know.” he nods with reliance as he got on his horse.

 

Just as he was about to whip the lead ropes, he feels a tight grip on his arms as it was in midair. Guanlin looks down at Yuqi, whose bright pupils have faded into a darker shade. “ _T_ _aiwan_ is counting on you.”

 

As though the thick, suffocating atmosphere held an airborne disease, Guanlin acknowledged the statement once more with a simple nod. He has gotten used to demands and strict statements over the years.

 

And just like that, Guanlin was beyond the kingdom walls.

 

-

 

It was one thing to travel. And it was certainly a whole different thing to travel alone, Guanlin thinks to himself as he tries to set his eyes and focus on the road ahead. He was doing his absolute best to not get nervous and most especially to not catch a glimpse of the forest trees on either side of him.

 

It had been three hours since he began his trip, and by the heavens was it so...lonely.

 

There was no way Guanlin would be breaking down his pride by talking to his horse, Zhìwêi—who is very fragrant and clean, mind you—so he just resorted into zipping his mouth and let his mind space out.

 

The silence, at one point, became suffocating. Flashbacks of his childhood coursed through his mind, and he hissed when the rough lead poked at his skin.

 

The Lai Family.

 

Everyone knows of them, or at least heard of them through gossiping tongues. Most people from the northern part of the Taipei polis has even seen them up close that day.

 

That day.

 

When Lai Guanlin, youngest and only son of the family, watched as his father and uncle got humiliated and executed in front of thousands. He remembers clearly the face of the executioner, and how he looked like a demon with those flowing, royal red robes of his. How the heavy silver with a red cross charm rested around the traitor's neck. How that bastard was once his father's most loyal friend.

 

Guanlin cried nights to count, his sister had to labor for what's left of them, and his mother was driven to an unstable state of mind. At that time, their riches didn't matter. The villa of the Lai Family meant nothing to Guanlin, not when they were no longer complete. Even though the Emperor took action and commanded palace guards to patrol their house, it just didn't feel safe anymore.

 

It destroyed eleven-year-old Guanlin to the core when his mother and sister were requested to migrate to another town with his other relatives. Meanwhile, he had to stay in Taipei because the Emperor, who he later found out was another acquaintance of his father, sought him to become a palace attendant. It wasn't easy to adjust like that within a year and some months, but His Royal Highness raised him just like a good father would, and Guanlin was thankful for that.

 

One day, Guanlin thinks, he'd like to repay his debt to the Emperor.

 

-

 

“Your Highness, with all due respect, sending that boy to carry out this mission, alone most especially, was an irrational decision!”

 

“Guanlin wouldn't last an hour out in the wilderness by himself!”

 

“Sir, what would we tell the mother and sister once we find out that he's been ambushed by ruffians?!”

 

“And with a royal wagon like that? He radiates weakness and pampered behavior, I highly doubt Lai Guanlin is the perfect attendant for the job.”

 

“Sir, we have generals leading the entire army; yet you chose a teenage boy who only has an unused sword attached to his hip?”

 

“ _HE COULD BE KILLED!!_ ”

 

“SILENCE!”

 

With one word from the Emperor, the entire Royal Council shut up and sat back down, though they failed to kill the intense vibe that was swimming about in the air between all of them.

 

“At any moment, the Templars could charge at us.” Song Yuqi says helplessly. “We _have_ to do something to protect the kingdom now that His Majesty protected Guanlin.”

 

“What's the big deal with this Lai Guanlin, anyway?” spats an old man who was scribbling on his scroll. “The Lai Family has lost their power and influence many years ago. There's no point in driving him away from the city to avoid the Templars from killing him off.”

 

A middle-aged lady, presumably in her late twenties, smacked the old man with her hand fan. “No, you idiot. Lai Guanlin is much more valuable than you may think.”

 

“What, he's the heir to his father's land up north the city?” snorts another member, this time a young male, who can't be much older than fifteen. “What do you expect us to do with whatever he'll inherit? Destroy the Lai villa and start a farm? Groom the damn horses?”

 

That triggered the rest of the council and once again, they were all standing, slamming their hands on the long, royal table as they yell out their say on the story. The Emperor calmly looks at the maids standing next to the grand door who were petrified at such wild behavior and had to back away slowly.

 

All council members turned their heads to meet the Emperor's mischievous old eyes as he chuckled.

 

“Lai Guanlin is of Assassin heritage.”

 

They all bit their lips shut once more. After a long silence, Yuqi spoke up again. “Sir, are you sure? _The_ Lai Family possess Assassin blood?”

 

“Very sure. That was why I was companions with Guanlin's father and uncle all those years ago.”

 

“He's not fit to be an Assassin, there's no use for his blood!” the young boy screeches. “He’s too thin, too frail, have you seen him during training? If he were to hold a sword, the first person he'll slice is himself!”

 

“Speak for yourself, young man. You're no treasure either.” Snottily, the middle-aged woman tells him as she fanned herself in a haughty manner.

 

“What's his connections to the Brotherhood, Your Highness?” A general asks.

 

“You know the Lee Family from the Seoul branch of South Korea?” the Emperor starts, “Those who took part in molding the Brotherhood?”

 

“Impossible. The legendary Lee Family?” an old man chuckles.

 

“Yes. Lai Guanlin is almost the same age as one of the Lee Family's most talented Assassins. Lee Daehwi, was it? Both families were planning to train Guanlin under him until we had complications. The Templars got to the Lais first.”

 

“That's more of a reason to hunt Guanlin down.” Yuqi furrows her eyebrows in response. “Sending him off alone, aren't we giving the Templars an advantage here?”

 

“They don't know of Lai Guanlin. The Templars only have knowledge of his older sister.” informs the Emperor, sipping on his Chinese-porcelain tea cup. “It was the main reason why the Lai Family sheltered Guanlin and made him grow up like that—because they feared that the Templars would hunt him down after his father.”

 

The old man speaks up again, “May the Father of Understanding guide Lai Guanlin.”

 

Then followed a shocked silence, cut off by a deafening screech from Yuqi.

 

“ _KILL HIM!_ ”

 

-

 

“Zhìwêi, let's take a break first. Aren't you hungry?” Guanlin says in a ridiculously high-pitched tone that would put his deep speaking voice into shame, lovingly patting his ivory-colored horse. “My beloved Zhìwêi, how dare Yuqi-jiêjie insult your scent?”

 

They were far on the road, and Guanlin had already passed a town along the way. However, as much as the distance seemed to go on for forever, he could still see a blurry silhouette of the high and grand palace of Taipei. It was of no question, as it was built on a high mountain for the whole country to see.

 

The heat of the weather has subsided along with the sun that was setting, hiding behind thin clouds. Even though Guanlin's vision was not so clear, he still thought that the lights of the lanterns adorning the tall palace towers looked mesmerizing even from afar.

 

“I wish I could go back, or had someone to talk to.” he sighs, feeding Zhìwêi an apple that he picked from the wagon. “Not that you're not good company though, you good girl.”

 

Guanlin flinches at a loud sound, and his widened eyes shifted to look back at the tower he was admiring.

 

“Why...why are they firing the canon signal?!” he shouts with all his might out of panic, forgetting for a moment that no one could hear him.

 

“Zhìwêi, we have to go, _now_.” Guanlin says desperately, climbing on his horse. “The Emperor, all of the citizens, they're in danger!”

 

As if warning him, the horse whinnies, and Yuqi's words return to pierce him in the head.

  
“If anything seems out of the blue, _never_ turn back.”

**Author's Note:**

> the Wanna One Assassin's Creed!AU that nobody asked for!! uwu (i really hope you understood the prologue hdhdh)
> 
> hmu on my twitter so we could screech about wanna one together!! uwu @bbaebubs


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